Then he looked at me, with something warm, and fragile, and devastating. His eyes were soft with a tenderness I had never seen in him, a tenderness I knew he wasn’t capable of. The world narrowed to this moment, this space between us, nothing else existed—not Norsen, not my revenge, not Rivan’s ghost. Just him.
He wasn’t supposed to look at me this way. He wasn’t supposed to hold me like he had been waiting centuries for this moment.
His lips parted slightly, so close I could taste the promise of them. His body, lean and hard, pressed near enough to feel the tension in his muscles. His hands, still hovering near my waist, like he was fighting not to pull me closer.
I begged my heart to remember that I hate him, that he took Rivan from me, that he ruined everything. But my body wasn’t li
